


Sparkling

by kittenofdoomage



Series: The Twelve Days Of Kinkmas 2017 [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Hunting, Kinkmas, Kinks, Krampus - Freeform, Restraint, Sex, Smut, Soulmates, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 06:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13025625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Fighting a Krampus was not how you wanted to spend Christmas, but at least you’ve met your soulmate. Even if he is a little… tied up.





	Sparkling

You weren’t sure if the fairy lights were making his eyes greener, but it certainly lit up the way he scowled from his position. Tied to the chair with Christmas lights. The wires were wrapped around his arms and torso, snaking down to his legs and securing him to his seat, and you couldn’t help glancing at the bundle of lights that balanced on his crotch.

Did it make you a hussy that you were weighing up his attractiveness and you hadn’t even asked his name yet?

“Some assistance would be wonderful,” he growled, and you blushed, apologizing, moving towards him with the intent of freeing him from his colorful bindings.

Unfortunately, you didn’t move two feet before something large dropped into the corner of the dilapidated room, its enormous bulk casting a shadow against the wall in colorful shades. It was dressed in ripped red fabric, and resembled what had possibly once been a man.

“The Krampus,” you whispered, and the bound man’s eyes went wide. “Fuck.”

The Krampus roared, and you backed up, wielding your machete, knowing that as far as the lore said, there was no way to kill a Krampus. You had to figure out how to disarm it, and find the kids it had kidnapped. The man in the chair was struggling, making the lights twinkle even more as he fought to get free. 

With a growl, the beast advanced, before scenting the air and looking between you and his prisoner with what looked like confusion on his mangled hairy face. The Santa hat on his head, stained with blood on the fur trim, bobbed in an amusing manner, as he turned his attention to the restrained man. “Whoa, whoa,” he shrieked as the creature opened its gaping maw, ready to feed. “You only eat kids!”

“Not true!” you clarified, calling around the monster. “A Krampus will eat any soul it deems pure enough!”

A crash caught the attention of all three of you, and a large man burst through a splintered door to your left, taking quick aim with a shotgun and blasting the Krampus in the face, sending it crashing to the floor. He glanced at you with a grimace, shrugging. “It also eats people who’ve found their soulmates.”

“Sam?” you asked, recognizing the man from a long time ago. “Sam Winchester, right? We met at -”

“Ellen’s, yeah,” he remembered, smiling. “How’ve you been?”

“Can we not ignore the fact that this thing is going to  _ eat me _ ?” The other man shrieked, his voice comically high pitched. The Krampus was moving again, getting back to it’s huge clawed feet, and you pointed at the tied up man. 

“He yours?”

“That’s Dean. My brother,” Sam explained, rolling his eyes as the Krampus charged. He neatly dodged out of the way, hitting it with the butt of the gun. “We gotta behead it,” he said, and you glanced at your machete, before tossing it to him. He caught it by the handle, bringing it swiftly down in a graceful arc onto the creature’s neck.

And it did nothing.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Sam muttered, looking at the bent machete.

“Plan B?” you asked, and he shrugged.

Dean grunted, scraping the chair across the floor. “Whenever you two are ready,” he spat, trying to get away from the Krampus, which was now looking to you. Apparently it wasn’t bothered that Sam was trying to behead it, and it ignored him completely, even when he took aim and shot it in the back.

“Really want that plan B!” you shouted, backing away, only to find a wall at your back. You groped in the dim light for the doorknob of the door you’d come through, but you couldn’t find it blindly, and the Krampus was bearing down on you. “Why does it want me?!” you shrieked. “I haven’t met my soulmate!”

Sam launched himself across the room, landing on the creature’s back, clinging to it and trying to steer it in a different direction. “Sammy!” Dean screeched, concern for himself all but gone. You threw yourself across the floor, rolling to a stop, and grabbing the bent machete.

“Beheading might not be an option,” you mused, just as Sam got the thing to stagger towards you again. “But not much can survive being stabbed in the face.” You pushed up, thrusting the machete between the Krampus’ eyes, and it roared, before slumping down to the floor, dead. Sam was sprawled across it like it was a big hairy rug, the machete blade inches from his face. “Sorry,” you murmured, offering him your hand, and he took it.

“Hello?” Dean asked, almost snarling at his situation. “Anyone wanna untie me and  _ not _ stab my brother?”

Sam was there in a second, cutting through the bindings and the lights flickered off, their circuits cut. The Krampus didn’t move, but you watched it warily, just in case the thing came back to life. “I think it’s dead,” Sam commented, watching you closely. “Good call.”

Dean scoffed. “She almost got you.”

“But she didn’t,” the other brother retorted. “Be nice. If she hadn’t got here first, you might be Krampus meat.”

“Can we find the kids now?” you asked, getting impatient. “Also, what was that crap about soulmates?”

*****

“So,” Dean murmured, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” you replied, yawning and stretching into his hold. “Ugh, I can’t believe we have to get up today.”

Dean chuckled, peppering kisses along your collarbone, grinding his hips against your ass. He was hard, like every damn morning, and you smiled at his predictability, wiggling against him. “We haven’t gotten out of bed all weekend.”

“I don’t hear you complaining.”

“Best anniversary ever,” he announced, before pulling you closer. You rolled with the momentum, half laying across him, pinning his cock between his belly and your thigh. “Now, how about one last ride before we head out to find Sam?”

You grinned, pushing yourself up a little more, throwing your leg over his hips, and positioning yourself so the tip of his dick grazed your pussy. “One last ride, Dean Winchester? You make it sound like we’re never gonna do this again.”

“As long as there are no more Krampus’ this year,” he moaned, the words becoming distorted as you sank down onto him, holding him deep inside your body. “Goddamn, but I wish I could send that last one a gift basket.”

You started to ride him, wondering how you’d gotten this lucky. Dean Winchester was your soulmate, your one and only, and you only knew it because you’d happened to be on the same hunt for the same monster. Sam thought it was sickening, how you’d fallen into bed with each other so quickly, but three years later, and you spent this weekend the same way every time.

“Merry Christmas,” you purred, pinching his nipple and Dean yelped, arching up into you. “And a very happy New Year.”

“You’re funny,” he ground out, unable to maintain his composure as you lifted yourself up and down, keeping a steady rhythm. He was twitching inside you, ready to bust, but you were intending on drawing it out as long as possible. “And you’re a tease.”

“You love it,” you returned, only to find yourself pulled down by his weight. Dean rolled, keeping your bodies locked together as he laid you against the bed, taking control, and you gasped as he thrust into you hard. There was a smirk on his face that you knew all too well, and you reciprocated when he dipped his head to kiss you.

“No,” he muttered, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “I love you.”


End file.
